


Child of War

by AmazingGraceless



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Discussions of War, Gen, Introspection, Reflection, my favorite tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingGraceless/pseuds/AmazingGraceless
Summary: Teddy Lupin is haunted by the war that ended two days after he was born.
Relationships: Teddy Lupin & Andromeda Black Tonks





	Child of War

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was to write the juxtaposition of happiness and sorrow. CW for loss of a parent.

Teddy Lupin was born two days before the war ended. April 30, 1998, a date eclipsed by the morning of what happened two days later— the Battle of the Hogwarts, the death of Voldemort, and the formal end of the war. And the death of his parents in the last great battlefield.

As a child, the adults would get quiet on his birthday and the second day of May. They would smile at him as they doled out cake with dancing toppers and presents wrapped in colorful paper with little broomsticks that seemed to fly around on their own. But those smiles never quite reached their eyes. Instead, there was sorrow, regret, the indescribable feeling of the what-ifs.

What-if his parents had been there still?

What-if at least his mother lived?

What-if his father was the one giving him his first broomstick instead of his grandmother?

Teddy picked up a stone from the side of the Black Lake. His birthday was coming once more and he was dreading it. At Hogwarts, at least he was away from his relatives and didn't have to see the smiles and sad eyes while celebrating another year that he had lived and his parents hadn't. But, like all shadows of the war, it couldn't quite escape him. It was in their letters, see, attached in envelopes to the outside of the parcel, impossible to toss aside and ignore.

_Your love of reading, that's your father. He was a great man and he would have been so proud to see the young man you became—_

_—She liked turning her hair all sorts of outrageous colors, too. I kept telling her that pink was perhaps a bit much, that someday she'd have to grow up and present herself respectably. But I suppose there was no need for that— fighting Death Eaters makes you respectable no matter the shade of blue of your hair—_

_—I hear Defense Against the Dark Arts is your best subject these days? That makes sense— I suppose you are a chip off the old block after all—_

Teddy supposed that he couldn't blame them. He supposed it would make him sad, too, if he'd ever had met his parents when he could remember them, had seen more than just the moving photographs in the album hidden in the stacks of books on Gran Andromeda's favorite book shelf.

He glanced at his own reflection in the Black Lake. As a Metamorphamagus, he could change his appearance at will— but there was a default, a natural state that his features often returned to when he wasn't concentrating particularly hard. He now sported floppy turquoise hair, as he preferred the color blue to all others in the visible light spectrum. But beyond that, he recognized the slope of his father's nose, the dark twinkling eyes of his mother from all of the old photographs.

There was no denying that he was the son of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin.

Teddy threw the stone, and it skipped, bouncing on the reflection of his face, shattering it. He sighed and shoved his hands into the warm pockets of his cloak. It was a rather cold spring in Scotland, following a particularly bitter winter.

Soon it would be spring, and then he could spend more time out here while he read and revise. He supposed the studious nature of his could have come from either parent— while no one considered Tonks a scholar, she was bright and knew plenty of magic, to become an Auror so young. Still, Teddy decided against staying outside and instead decided to head inside. He had gotten ahead on his History of Magic essay, but it would be best to finish it so he had plenty of time to revise for other subjects such as Potions. He shuddered at the thought— Slughorn was a good teacher, but Teddy had the penchant for causing accidents with his clumsiness.

No sooner had Teddy entered the Hufflepuff dormitory than he had seen his owl, Tristran, perched on the rail at the side of the scuffed wooden nightstand next to his bed. Tristran was nibbling at the owl feed Teddy always left for him, the package neatly detached from his leg and sitting plopped on the bed. He knew the owl must have flown in from the little circular windows that were at ground's level outside but were high on the ceiling inside the dormitories.

Teddy had forgotten that he had been missing a present and a letter. He sighed as he sat down and glanced around. The other Hufflepuffs had instead elected to revise in the library or the common rooms. It was perhaps for the best that he would not be viewed as he opened his present.

He knew it was a bit mischievous, since presents were meant to be opened on birthdays— but what his Gran didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

But rather, there was no parcel, he realized. Whatever gift she had given, it was inside fo the cream envelope with the neat little wax seal on it. For all that Andromeda had distanced herself from her pureblood upbringings, some evidence of her high class still remained.

Teddy ripped open the envelope, cracking the seal— any prior attempts to preserve the pretty little thing always ended in this result anyway, and thus he had decided he would not attempt to open it correctly anymore, anyhow. Into his lap plopped two rings. They were clearly designed to match each other, and there was a little opal on one of them.

Confused, he unfolded the letter to see his Gran's glorious script.

_Dearest Teddy,_

_Today you are fourteen, and I thought that instead of a new cloak or broom that perhaps it was time I give you something far more important. These belonged to your mother and father— their wedding rings, my grandson. I think it is time that you took them. It would match your style anyway— you take after Dora in that matter._

_Wear these, and know that you carry far more than the tragedy that they died fighting for you. You carry their love and their joy at loving you, that inspired them to fight for your world. They loved you, and I still do. They would be proud to see you now._

_Love,_

_Grandromeda_

Teddy laughed at the portmanteau his grandmother had been attempting to make a thing for years. He then sobered and slipped the rings on his fingers. He observed them for a moment— both were slightly too big. He thought of how his parents only wore them for a year, and he felt a tear stinging his eye.

But then he smiled. They would always haunt him, but he would let their joy haunt him as well as their sorrow.


End file.
